


In For A Penny

by i_eat_men_like_air



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: A Praise Kink That Can Be Seen From Space, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, Praise Kink, Questionably Written Accent, Rimming, Slight Dacryphilia, Uh Oh It’s Jopson In A Dress!, authority kink, consensual feminisation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29344368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_eat_men_like_air/pseuds/i_eat_men_like_air
Summary: ‘You’ll look a treat, Mr. Jopson, and you come find me if the attentions of our young lads up-top get too boisterous for your delicate sensibilities,’ Blanky had winked at him, and moved to clamber back out of the room with a guffaw, as Thomas stroked the dress in his arms.‘I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for you, Mr. Blanky, what will you be dressing as?’‘Why I’ll be the salty sea dog, young Miss. Jopson, s’why you should come and find me! We always know how to look after lonely young ladies,’ he winked at Thomas again, waggling his eyebrows before disappearing up the ladder.
Relationships: Thomas Blanky/Thomas Jopson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2021





	In For A Penny

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 4 of The Terror Rarepair Week, for the prompt ‘Shameless flirting’

The Christmas costume party aboard Terror was in full swing. The music echoed through the halls, and the laughter and jubilant shouts of the men lent a far warmer air to the ship than had graced it in many months. There was an equally raucous amount of noise booming from Erebus, and the two ships were all ablaze with light against the dark of the Arctic winter, pinpricks of joyful, festive light. Men danced aboard both ships in all manner of dress: lions, pierots, angels, fine young ladies, all these costumes and more were present and spinning upon the decks to the joyous music.  _ A reprieve _ , Sir John had said,  _ something to take their minds off of this wintery chill _ .

Thomas Jopson had been given the night off by his Captain, and while he had protested, Crozier had demanded he take some time for himself.

‘Go and have yourself a lark, Jopson, relax for once in your life,’ his Captain had rasped, patting him on the back.

Jopson had fought back against the suggestion of taking a night to himself, not wanting the man to be without him at the officer’s Christmas meal, but eventually the Captain had turned the demand into an order, laughing goodnaturedly at Jopson’s irritation. The officers were gathering on Erebus for the night, and Jopson felt a twinge of annoyance that he would not be the one tending to the table; he was by far the most competent of the stewards serving aboard either ship, and he had wanted to keep an eye on his Captain’s drinking for the night, in case it got out of hand, as it so often did. He was sure Bridgens would do a fine job; the older man was a good steward, Jopson could admit that with ease, and he was a kind man, but it was not the same as being there himself. 

He sighed, resting at the wall of his small berth and looking down incredulously at the garment he was wearing. 

* * *

By the time he had found his way down to the costume chest there had been very few decent outfits left, and at the end he had been forced to choose between a rather lopsided rabbit costume, and a quite alarming sapphire blue dress. 

‘Don’t strike me as much of a rabbit, Mr. Jopson! You’d make a far prettier lass, by my reckoning,’ the unmistakable voice of Thomas Blanky had jolted him out of his indecision, and the man hopped down the stairs to clap him on the back,

‘Ol’ sourpuss given you the night off, eh?’ he had asked, and Thomas had nodded politely, explaining that the Captain had ordered him to do so.

‘I don’t know if I’ll make a better young lady than I would a bunny rabbit, Mr. Blanky, but I’ll take your capable word for it, as an expert on these matters,’ Thomas had grinned at the man, his pale eyes twinkling in the dim lamplight.

Blanky had laughed uproariously at this, as he laughed at so many things, and Thomas had chuckled with him. Terror’s Ice Master was a good man, cheerful and at ease with himself where the Captain was so often dour and tense. Thomas had gathered the dress in his arms at Blanky’s suggestion, surprised at how soft it was, considering it had been jammed at the bottom of one of the ancient costume chests. Blanky had grinned at him, a warm affair that split his face from ear to ear, and had given him a friendly punch on the arm.

‘You’ll look a treat, Mr. Jopson, and you come find me if the attentions of our young lads up-top get too boisterous for your delicate sensibilities,’ Blanky had winked at him, and moved to clamber back out of the room with a guffaw, as Thomas stroked the dress in his arms.

‘I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for you, Mr. Blanky, what will you be dressing as?’

‘Why I’ll be the salty sea dog, young Miss. Jopson, s’why you should come and find me! We always know how to look after lonely young ladies,’ he winked at Thomas again, waggling his eyebrows before disappearing up the ladder.

Thomas had chuckled at that; he was never sure if Blanky’s flirtations were serious, but he seemed to flirt with all and sundry regardless of sex, much to the consternation of poor Lieutenant Irving. He didn’t mind, Blanky was a handsome enough man, roguish though he was, and Thomas was a sap for a compliment. He caught himself, embarrassed to be preening over such a small thing as Blanky saying he’d be a pretty lass, and made way to return to his quarters and lace himself into the blasted thing.

* * *

Now, standing alone in his room, he felt more than a little foolish. He was sure the men on the quarterdeck and in the mess hall were already far too drunk to notice him, even if he was wearing such a brightly coloured garment. His undershirt rucked up awkwardly beneath the neckline of the dress, low cut as it was, and his boots kept catching on the petticoat he had found to go with the ensemble. He could not see how he looked in full, having only a small mirror that he used for shaving and keeping his hair in order, but from what he could see he was unsure that Mr. Blanky’s prediction had been accurate.  _ Pretty  _ was not a word he would apply to himself, bundled up in the dress like a lump of sausage meat in a butcher’s parcel. 

He did not think he was a bad looking man, generally, but the absurdity of the dress as it bunched and strained around his shoulders made his cheeks flush. Perhaps he would simply have to find Mr. Blanky in the fray, for some kind of reassurance that he looked ‘a treat’, as the Ice Master had said in that broad, Whitby accent of his. Thomas spared himself one last glance in the small mirror, surprised at how nervous he suddenly felt, and stepped out of his tiny berth with a resigned sigh.

There were men in the corridors, in a variety of ridiculous outfits, and one or two of them shouted Thomas a greeting as he walked past, hiking his skirts up carefully so as not to trip and fall arse over tit. If he had tits, the dress would fit a lot cleaner, he huffed, as he clambered up to the mess hall, where the majority of the noise was coming from. He was greeted by a blast of hot, damp air as he entered the mess hall, momentarily stunned by the noise, the blazing temperature, and the stench of ale and tobacco smoke. A roar greeted him, accompanied by shouts that he was a ‘ _ lovely little thing _ ’ and that he  _ ‘cut a damn fine figure in that gown, Mr. Jopson! _ ’. Thomas felt his face heat up instantly, both at the warmth of the room and at the lewd remarks that followed him as he angled through the crowd to get a pint. Lord knows he’d need it if he were to enjoy the evening without incident.

* * *

Thomas lost track of the time as he allowed the noise and the heat to wash over him. The men were all past drunk now, pitching and rolling despite the calm sea beneath them. He ducked as a tankard hurtled past him, hopping out of the way as a trio of Marines ran after it, shouting and roaring with laughter as they went. It was perfectly pleasant, and he had managed to drink a decent amount of the sour, pale ale so he felt relaxed enough to chat to some of the other crew members. So many of them saw him as an outlier, a strange anomaly who would report all their conversations to Captain Crozier as soon as look at them, but now, in this strange melee of bodies, they seemed far more at ease with him. Maybe it was the ale, maybe it was the dress, Thomas wasn’t sure, but he was grateful nonetheless. As much as he enjoyed talking to the Captain, it was pleasant to have some other conversation as well, even if it was limited to a flurry of ridiculous comments about his appearance and general slurred laughter. 

Thomas flinched, crying out in surprise as the trio of unidentified Marines shoved back past him again, and falling squarely into the arms of Thomas Blanky. 

‘Ey up, missy!’ Blanky chuckled, and Thomas felt his cheeks flush as the Ice Master hooked his hands around him and pulled him upright. 

The man was much stronger than his height would suggest, and he righted Thomas with ease, keeping his arms wrapped around Thomas’ waist with a glittering grin.

‘Ah don’t you look a picture, lass! All on yer own surrounded by such unscrupulous characters as meself, never know what I might do wi’ a lovely young thing like ye in these old arms,’ Blanky cackled, leaning back and running his eyes wolfishly over Thomas.

Wolfish was the word, actually, as Thomas suddenly noticed the man was sporting a ridiculous pair of furry ears, and a shirt sewed in the pattern of a dog’s coat. Salty sea dog, indeed. 

Later, Thomas was unsure if he could blame his reaction on the ale, or simply on the sudden proximity to a warm body that wasn’t his Captain’s, but without consideration he let out a giggle - worthy of the most coquettish of port doxies - and feigned a swoon away from Blanky, the back of his hand pressed to his over-warm forehead. It felt nice, being able to  _ breathe _ around another person, being able to jest in a way that wouldn’t be reprimanded. 

‘Sir you shouldn’t talk to young ladies like that, they might get the wrong idea!’ Thomas gasped in mock-horror, he could feel his carefully affected accent slipping with the drink, but couldn’t bring himself to amend it as Blanky let out a guffaw.

‘Might they now, lassie? I’m sure I don’t know what yer on about, but ‘ow ‘bout ye drink a tad more o’ that and ye can walk me through it, eh?,’ Blanky’s arms did not leave Thomas’ sides, and Thomas felt his face flush an even deeper shade of red at the jest.

‘Either that, or I could give ye a little demonstration o’ what I think yer after,’ Blanky’s eyes were twinkling in the fading lamplight, his gaze not leaving Thomas’ as he drank deeply from his cup.

‘I’m sure there’s nothin’ you could  _ demonstrate _ to me, sir,’ Thomas sniffed, sipping delicately from his own cup, ‘I’m a lady of the world, me, seen all sorts in all kindsa places.’

Blanket leant into him, manoeuvering Thomas until the two men were in a position that suggested a dance to outside eyes.

‘Are ye sure about that, lass, ‘cause old Tom’s got a few tricks up his sleeves that might surprise even a girl such as yerself,’ Blanky’s mouth was close enough to Thomas’ ear that he could feel the man’s breath, hot and damp and smelling of ale and pipe tobacco. 

Thomas swallowed, suddenly unsure of his position in their little game. He looked down at Blanky, taking in the man’s roughly hewn features and sparkling eyes, and quickly made a decision. In for a penny, in for a pound, as it were.

‘D’you think so sir?’ Thomas matched Blanky’s position, leaning to whisper in the man’s ear, ‘‘cause I’m not so easily surprised as all that.’

He felt Blanky shift against him, suddenly aware that they were still surrounded by the drunken crew. Nobody was sparing a glance their way, thankfully, but Thomas’ breath still quickened as Blanky’s hand slid further down his back, resting just above the swell of his petticoat.

‘Yer lookin’ nervous there, young Miss. Jopson,’ Blanky rumbled in his ear, ‘didn’t think old Tom was goin’ ta follow through with yer little remarks, hm?’

‘I had no doubt as to your sincerity, sir, it’s just there’s an awful lot of people here,’ Thomas whispered, resting his hands on Blanky’s shoulders and silently admiring the ropes of muscle hidden beneath that ridiculous shirt.

‘And there’s better places for demonstrations, I reckon,’ Thomas all but purred into Blanky’s ear, enjoying how the older man shifted against him in a poor imitation of a dance. 

He gingerly pulled their bodies closer, until they occupied the same space entirely, and fluttered his long, dark eyelashes. Blanky’s throat bobbed as he swallowed the last of his ale, and Thomas’ eyes followed the dip of his Adam’s apple with hungry eyes. When he looked up, he felt his breath catch in his throat as Blanky’s slate grey eyes met his own soft blue ones; there was that familiar twinkle, but it was beset by a creeping hunger that sent an arrow of desire to Thomas’ prick.

‘Fuckin’ hell, lad,’ Blanky breathed out, his grin just on the safe side of wild, ‘ye come to my quarters in ‘alf an hour and I’ll give ye the best demonstration ye’ve ever seen.’

Thomas smirked as Blanky pulled away and melted into the crowd. He leaned back against the wall of the mess, and smoothed his skirts down, softly inhaling as his hand passed over his half-hard prick. It would be torture, the wait until he could scamper down to Blanky’s quarters, but the glint in the Ice Master’s eyes had promised it would be worth it.

The time passed sluggishly, Thomas danced with a couple of the Marines, their faces blurring together as he was twirled around, but his mind wandered incessantly to that hungry grin that Mr. Blanky had given him. A couple of the men made clumsy passes at him, hands wondering a little too low, and eyes dragging over his blue satin covered body for a little too long. Thomas brushed them off, shuffling away from the more  _ overt _ attentions some of the men tried to bestow upon him to find more crowded areas of the mess hall.

When he hoped half an hour had passed he made his excuses as quickly as he dared, waving off attempts to get him to stay with a poorly coordinated, mocking curtsy, and walked swiftly in the direction of Mr. Blanky’s quarters. They were not far from the mess hall, and by the time Thomas arrived he was still swimming in the warmth of the party, light headed and flushed red with ale and good cheer. He raised his hand to knock at the door with unguarded enthusiasm, only to find the damn thing disappear as Blanky pulled it open with a chuckle,  _ sans _ dog ears, Thomas noticed with relief. He wasn’t sure if he could fuck a man wearing a pair of fluffy ears.

‘Easy there, hen, you’ll do me an injury wavin’ yer fist around like that,’ Blanky’s voice was quiet, and he checked the corridor for onlookers before ushering Thomas in with a hand at the small of his back.

Blanky’s cabin was a little larger than Thomas’ own, but still small enough that they were stood chest to chest almost immediately as Blanky shut the door carefully behind them, wedging it shut with one of his boots. Thomas felt his face grow even warmer as Blanky ran his eyes over him, wetting his lips nervously at the sudden reality of the situation. What if they were caught? What would he do? What would  _ Blanky _ do? What would he say about this?

‘Shush there, duck, can see that clever brain o’ yours turnin’ over. C’mere and let old Tom work his magic,’ Blanky rested his hands on either side of Thomas’ face, petting him with deliciously calloused hands before pulling Thomas into a slow, easy kiss.

Thomas murmured into Blanky’s mouth, trying to think of something intelligent to say as the man ran his tongue over his bottom lip and rendered his brain inanimate. Blanky rumbled into the kiss, tangling his hands in Thomas’ soft, black hair with an appreciative hum. Thomas rested his hands at Blanky’s chest, reaching up to stroke the grey, wiry hair of the man’s neat beard as they leaned against one another. It felt delightful: Blanky’s hands tugging gently at his hair, his tongue swirling against Thomas’ own, and Thomas whined in surprise as he felt Blanky grind an impressive cockstand against his satin-covered thigh.

Blanky pulled away, breathing heavily, and rested their foreheads together for a moment with a chuckle.

‘Ye gods, the mouth on ye, lad,’ his voice was even more gruff than usual, and Thomas whimpered as Blanky’s fingers massaged his scalp, keeping their faces barely inches apart.

‘‘S’not just good for kissin’, Mr. Blanky, though I like this very much,’ Thomas grinned down at the man, eyes glimmering.

Blanky growled quietly, baring his teeth in a chuckle.

‘Oh I’m sure,  _ Miss _ . Jopson,’ Blanky kissed him firmly until Thomas was gasping, his lips red and swollen from the Ice Master’s efforts, ‘an’ I think ye said ye’d give me a demonstration, if I’m not mistaken.’

Thomas sighed happily as Blanky pushed him to his knees, closing his eyes as the older man led him towards the small bunk, revelling in being moved into position like an artist’s doll. He heard Blanky sit on the bed with a grunt, and opened his eyes again to stare up at the man. 

Blanky’s face was dark, flushed and craggy in the low lamplight, and Thomas gazed at him adoringly, mouth hanging open in anticipation. He wanted the man to use him for all he was worth. 

‘Christ,’ Blanky breathed out, ‘look at ye lad. Yer panting already an’ I’ve barely touched ye. Gagging for it, are ye?’

Thomas nodded enthusiastically, his eyelids drooping as Blanky began to undo his trousers. He wondered what his prick would be like; he could see a dim outline through the front of his trousers, but it was tricky to get a good look at the thing when it was tucked away behind so many layers. His mouth watered as Blanky freed himself, eyes widening at the rock-hard member that bobbed in front of him. It was a dark, lovely shade of red at the crown, heavily veined and longer than Thomas had expected.

‘Ye like what ye see, little miss? Kneelin’ there like a pup with yer mouth agape?’ Blanky’s voice was low, and he reached a hand ‘round the back of Thomas’ head to grip his hair as Thomas nodded eagerly.

‘Yes sir, want you in my mouth, sir, please,’ Thomas swallowed heavily as Blanky chuckled, gruff and soft, above him.

The older man began to run his hand up and down his yard, smiling lazily at Thomas as he gazed up at him. Thomas strained forwards, hampered by Blanky’s hand in his hair, and whined shamelessly, tongue lapping at thin air. He could have easily blamed the ale for his behaviour, but the reality was he would act this way whilst stone cold sober; desperate as he was for the man’s prick. He wanted nothing more than to swallow Blanky down and have the older man use him until he was spent. 

Blanky chuckled at him again, eyes sparkling with amusement.

‘Funny little thing aren’t ye, pullin’ at me like that. D’ye want me to hurt ye lassie? ‘Cause I can if ye like, or I can treat ye like a little princess, all wrapped up in that pretty bloody dress,’ Blanky leant down and pressed his lips to Thomas’, slickly sucking on his tongue as Thomas moaned.

‘I’ll take anythin’ you give me, Mr. Blanky.’

Thomas’ had barely spoken, before Blanky pulled away and shoved his heavy cockstand into his mouth in one smooth motion. 

‘Ye let me know if it gets too much, sweetheart.’

Thomas felt his throat contract around the intrusion, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he gagged, retching softly as Blanky worked his way in and out of his mouth. It felt heavenly. Thomas tried his best to suck at the prick in his mouth, pressing his tongue along its underside as firmly as he could, but Blanky’s pace remained unhurried, gently pressing his prick forwards until it brushed at the back of Thomas’ throat, then pulling out just as slowly. Thomas strained at the pace Blanky was setting, trying to take some initiative, but Blanky held him firmly, keeping him still as he fucked his face, and the older man let out a stream of filthy, low praise as Thomas took him. 

‘Fuckin’ ‘ell ye little devil, takin’ me in like this. Wonder if yer cunt’ll be like this, soppin’ and warm for ol’ Tom’s prick,’ Blanky’s voice had dropped even further, deep enough that it vibrated through his yard and made Thomas moan, gagging for the praise and the heaviness in his mouth.

He felt a gathering wetness across his cheeks and chin, a mix of spittle, tears and pre-cum that would have been disgusting if it were from anyone else. Thomas lapped at it eagerly as Blanky pulled his cock from his mouth, whining like an animal at the taste of the salty, sour musk covering his tongue.

‘ _ God _ yer a pretty mess, duck,’ Blanky reached out a thumb and smeared the wetness over Thomas’ lips with a huff.

Thomas opened his mouth eagerly, letting Blanky run his thumb over his teeth and tongue, sucking at the digit with a quiet hum of enjoyment. The older man kissed him again as he removed his thumb, his lips gentle and chapped.

‘Alright, lass?’

Thomas nodded, his face glowing at Blanky’s tone. He felt  _ pretty _ , despite the mess Blanky had already made of his face and his hair. The older man made him feel  _ pretty _ , and Thomas couldn’t get enough of it.

‘Can’t believe I’ve no’ seen ye like this before, yer a thing made of clay aren’t ye, Mister Jopson.’

Thomas nodded again, humming in agreement as he basked under the warmth of Blanky’s voice. 

‘Hop up ‘ere, my duck, sit yerself on ol’ Tom’s lap and we’ll see about the sore little stand ye’ve got on.’

Thomas leapt onto Blanky’s lap, causing the man to roar with laughter. He had hardly noticed the ache beneath his petticoats, but his prick poked obscenely through the crinoline and satin of his skirts as he settled himself over the older man’s thighs. Thomas blushed, lowering his eyes in faux-embarrassment as Blanky hiked the sapphire fabric up his hips and wrapped a rough hand around his stand.

‘Christ, love, no drawers on for ol’ Tom, an’ that little clit of yers hard as nails,’ Blanky growled in his ear, rubbing him firmly as Thomas whimpered into his shoulder.

Thomas felt the press of Blanky’s cockstand against his own, and tried to reach down to touch it before Blanky tutted at him softly.

‘Now, now, sweetheart, ye keep yer hands to yerself or else I’ll be spending all over this pretty frock before I’ve had a chance to plunder that lovely cunny o’ yours.’

Thomas whimpered again, clutching onto Blanky’s shoulders as the older man frigged him slowly. It was all too slow, too sweet; there was such a kindness to Blanky’s movements that Thomas felt light headed, as if he might expire from sheer pleasure alone. Blanky’s shoulders were solid beneath Thomas’ grasping hands, speaking of decades of navy service, and Thomas buried his face in the crook of the man’s neck. He couldn’t stop himself from moving, rocking his hips as Blanky worked his prick and whining loudly.

‘Bless ye, lass, makin’ such a racket for me,’ Blanky breathed into Thomas’ ear, pulling Thomas closer into his lap and rocking up against him with a huff.

Thomas moaned as he felt Blanky’s cockstand rut at the crease of his thighs, grinding against the hot, firm flesh and making Blanky grunt out a curse.

‘ _ Fuck _ , lad, still yerself for a second or I’m definitely goin’ to make a proper mess of that gown.’

Thomas stilled as best he could, hips desperately pressing toward Blanky as the man pulled his hand away and leaned back to rummage around beneath his pillow. Blanky adjusted Thomas in his lap as he straightened up, holding a battered old tin and chuckling as Thomas leaned forward and pressed a line of butterfly kisses up the rough skin of his neck. 

‘On yer back, Miss. Jopson, hike those skirts up so I can get at ye.’

Thomas scrambled off of Blanky’s lap and shuffled his skirts up as best he could, wincing at the tearing noise as he yanked the petticoat a touch too hard. Above him, Blanky had removed that horrible dog-patterned shirt, and Thomas ran his eyes over the man’s physique with a soft moan. The muscles at Blanky’s neck and arms twitched as Thomas stared at him, and his stomach tensed as Thomas reached out to touch him, letting his shaking hands rove over the scar-laden skin of Blanky’s chest and arms. He had a tattoo of a compass star over his heart, and another of a swallow on his right shoulder, and Thomas sat up to kiss at them as Blanky chuckled.

‘Been a while since a young’un like yerself has gotten so hot n’ bothered for ol’ Tom,’ Blanky hissed as Thomas dragged his teeth over one of his nipples, mouthing at anything he could reach in a bid to drag Blanky on top of him.

‘That mouth’ll be the death of me, sweet’eart, fuckin’ ‘ell.’

Thomas continued his exploration, pressing his fingers softly at old, faded scars and the line of coarse, grey hair that spread over Blanky’s chest and stomach, thickening as the line reached his groin. He loved the feeling of the man above him, all warm soft lines and thick muscles, covered by hair that had the sweet musk of tobacco, and the bright tang of sweat tangled into it. Thomas buried his head in Blanky’s chest as the older man petted his hair, smiling indulgently down at him with twinkling eyes.

‘Enough of that now, love, lean yerself back and let me have a look at ye, let ol’ Tom have a taste of that cunt o’ yours.’

Thomas nodded, resting his back on Blanky’s mattress and hooking his arms around the back of his knees. He whimpered at the position, spread out and exposed, and his head swam as he felt Blanky’s tongue lick a hot, broad line up the crack of his arse. The sensation was indescribable, almost ticklish, but wet and warm and  _ wonderful _ at the same time, and Thomas moaned loudly as Blanky sucked carefully at his stones. 

‘Keep yerself still, now, duck, or you’ll do me a mischief,’ Thomas could hear the grin in Blanky’s voice, and he fisted his hands into the thin bed sheets with a groan.

‘Yessir!’ his voice was higher than he would’ve liked it, slurring softly as Blanky’s tongue worked him open with slow, determined strokes.

Thomas could feel Blanky growl into him, vibrating up his throbbing cockstand, and he felt the muscles in his neck protest as he strained to keep still. Blanky’s tongue sped up ever so slightly, lapping at the furred, salty skin of his hole and teasing at his rim with confident precision. Thomas gasped, his knuckles white against the sheet as he felt a slick, rough finger breach him alongside the soft warmth of Blanky’s tongue. 

‘Such a sweet cunt for ol’ Tom, eh missy? Dripping yer honey all over me,’ Blanky sucked at Thomas’ opening and crooked his finger roughly, ‘let’s see if this ol’ man can find that lovely spot that’ll make ye see stars, hm?’

Thomas yelped as Blanky found that very same spot, grinding himself against the calloused fingers inside him (when had Blanky added another, for God’s sake?). It sent aching sparks up his spine and down his legs, and his prick jumped, leaving a slick string of pre-ejaculate connecting his cockhead to the coarse fabric of the petticoat. He couldn’t see what Blanky was doing, but he could feel the man chuckling as he worked him open, fingers pumping in and out of Thomas with that same, maddeningly slow pace. His prick was throbbing, where it was concealed beneath the satin and crinoline of that damned dress, and Thomas whimpered as he felt Blanky give it a cursory tug before pulling his fingers gently from Thomas’ twitching hole.

Thomas sighed as he felt the head of Blanky’s prick tease at his entrance, trying to shove himself onto the blasted thing with a near-hysterical giggle.

‘C’mon, Mr. Blanky, show a girl ‘ow it’s done,’ he slurred, his brain overstimulated and fuzzy with want.

Blanky gave him a slap on the arse for that, laughing as he pressed the fabric of the dress down enough so they could see one another. The older man’s beard was matted and dripping with saliva and the slick from the tin, and his eyes gleamed as he watched Thomas writhe.

‘I’ll show ye alright,  _ Miss. Jopson _ ,’ he chuckled, ‘ _ God _ look at ye, knees up ‘round yer ears and gaspin’ for it.’

Thomas  _ whined _ as he felt Blanky’s crown press into him, achingly slow and achingly perfect.

‘ _ Christ, lad, the feel of ye ‘round me _ , that wet little cunny just  _ made _ for this, eh? Lovely tight little thing,’ Blanky shoved the dress down further, leaning down so he could growl into Thomas’ ear as he started grinding into him.

Thomas grabbed onto Blanky’s shoulders again, not trusting his hands for much more than frantically gripping the man as he bottomed out with a grunt. 

‘ _ Fuck me,  _ Mr. Blanky,  _ God _ just  _ fuck me _ ,  _ please _ ,’ Thomas whimpered as Blanky held them both still.

He could feel himself vibrating with desire at the feel of Blanky’s cock filling him up, resting against that magical spot that made his eyes cross, and he felt his hole twitch wildly around the intrusion. Blanky’s grin widened, his teeth glinting in the rapidly fading light, and he nipped Thomas’ ear gently.

‘Oh I’ll fuck ye, young Thomas, I’ll fuck ye ‘til ye go blind,’ Thomas felt his eyes grow wide at the sudden use of his Christian name but, before he could react, the breath was forced out of his lungs as Blanky pulled out and  _ rammed _ back into him. 

He was shoved back until his head whacked against the wall, and he wrapped his head around Blanky’s waist as he surrendered himself to the delicious, white-hot sensation. Thomas yelped as Blanky angled the head of his stand to grind down on that sinful little button inside him, dragging the man so he could stick his tongue in his mouth. Blanky grinned into the kiss, sucking at Thomas’ tongue in time with the slam of his hips against Thomas’ buttocks. The slap of skin against skin filled the small room, echoing obscenely up the wooden walls. 

Thomas’ head lolled back as Blanky fucked him, exposing his throat to the man, who immediately latched onto it and sucked a mark into the pale, stubbled skin. There would be a mark tomorrow, surely, but Thomas couldn’t bring himself to care. He was sure the ale had worn off now, but the intoxicating slip and drag of Blanky’s prick in his arse made him feel as if he were about to vacate his body and float up among the stars.

Thomas screwed his eyes shut as Blanky growled a stream of absolute  _ filth  _ into his ear, breath hot and damp against the delicate skin, and he tightened the grip of his legs as best he could, urging the man on.

‘ _ Christ _ the cunt on you, Mr. Jopson - soaking my prick like this - beggin’ for a proper seein’ to. No’ such a proper little lady now are ye - now ye’ve got me fuckin’ ye six ways to fuckin’ Sunday - such a sweet little thing- such a pretty lass with such a pretty, drippin’ cunny, makin’ a mess o’ my sheets…’

Blanky didn’t stop talking, growling his way beneath Thomas’ skin with his thick accent and feverish, worshipping words.

‘Would keep ye here all ‘time if I could, spread out like this and whimperin’ for my cock to fuck ye open.’

The image seared itself into Thomas’ mind, a picture of him spread across Blanky’s bed, arse stuffed and stretched for use whenever the Ice Master wanted him; the thought of it made him sob, hiccuping out a cry as Blanky slammed into him. 

‘Ye want to spend for me, lass, ye want to spend for ol’ Tom?’ Blanky grunted, worrying Thomas’ earlobe between his teeth.

Thomas nodded frantically, gasping out a  _ ‘please, God, please I want to come sir, God, sir, please… _ ’. He felt Blanky grin into his neck at this and he could have  _ wept _ as he felt a rough, hot hand begin to frig him urgently.

‘Show me lass - show me how ye’ll come for an old man - let me see ye spill all over that frock, lass, that’s it, that’s it,  _ ahhh. _ ’

Blanky sighed gleefully, his fist tightening around Thomas’ prick, and Thomas  _ wailed _ out his release, spine curling inwards and vision whiting out as his crisis tore through him. He couldn’t see, couldn’t move, could only feel a burst of heat deep inside him as Blanky swore through his own release, and he whined as he felt the man’s seed coat his insides, hot and  _ perfect _ . Blanky fell heavily on top of him, and Thomas reached a shaky hand to stroke the man’s hair. He felt as if he would float away without Blanky’s weight keeping him in place, and his heart swelled with an overwhelming feeling of fondness for the grizzled old man as they lay there, panting heavily.

Time came loose as the pair of them lay on Blanky’s bed, and Thomas couldn’t say how long they stayed there until he felt Blanky’s prick slip from its place within him, and he opened his eyes to see the older man watching him with unguarded affection.

‘Reckon we’ve fucked that dress of yours beyond repair, young Thomas,’ Blanky carded his hand through Thomas’ hair and pressed a kiss to his tear-stained cheek.

‘Reckon you’ve done the same to me, Mr. Blanky,’ Thomas breathed out a laugh and pulled the man down into a soft, lazy kiss.

He smiled as Blanky’s tongue lapped at the inside of his mouth, and he let his hands run up and down the man’s wiry, muscular back at a leisurely pace, enjoying the warmth that radiated from him. And Thomas chuckled as Blanky used the rough pad of his thumb to wipe the tears from his face. Maybe the Captain had been right; maybe a night off had been exactly what he needed. 


End file.
